This the most poetry spoken in her bed ever. Though the direct, and yes saccharine, lines from Jaskier make A Meditation on Spring such a relic. These words are alive. And Yennefer knows that there are no stars in her eyes and he is a flutter with ecstasy she still is touched so deeply. Words have a kind of magic to them. Now aware, now vulnerable to Jaskier's charm they are a caress.

"Careful," else he shatter again. Could he after such a reaction? Clearly his attention is peaked.

They tumble together. More full contact, more touch and her body sings with delight. Yennefer's knees feel weak and she still cannot find enough air. The kisses are too good to bother with a true effort to breathe. A flush comes up over her skin, spreading from between her breasts to her cheeks. Her eyes are wide, aware now that what a possibility is before her. "Now. Now please. Yes." He asks so very, very nicely.

Thighs spread open and this time there is more space than before. She feels exposed and does not a thing to change it.